


Regrets Of A Creep

by orphan_account



Series: Revving up RadioDust [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, im a sucker for fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Inspired by: "Creep - Vintage Postmodern Jukebox" on YouTubeAngel crossed a boundary, and is stuck in a slump.
Relationships: Alastor & Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Revving up RadioDust [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592290
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	Regrets Of A Creep

Angel feels like shit.

Not that it's any different from what he's feeling for the past week now, but he feel even _more_ so right at this specific moment in time. He took a risk and slipped a glance at the poor unfortunate sod he _almost_ poured his whole heart and soul-he-no-longer-hold a week before.

He sighed as the red-clad demon laughed, gesturing for the demon he's currently being entertained with, to take their conversation into the hallway as he (not so subtly) grinned menacingly. The dog-like demon he's accompanied by looks to be a few inches from shitting himself, tail between his legs, as the nervous padding of paws followed by the tap-tap-tap of Alastor's shoes softly echoed around the halls. Angel listened until the sound of feet hitting against floor disappeared, before stepping out into the light from the corner of the staircase.

Slowly, he tip-toed towards his room, as much as the clicking of his heeled boots would let him, and the events of what happened a week before making itself known at the back of his mind, words he could not say at the tip of his tongue as he stopped mid-step and taking a deep breath.

_As much as Angel would love to talk about the shit he went through as a way to vent all the bottled feelings he endured for almost more than a century, he_ really _has to cut the conversation with Alastor short. To avoid the consequences, he reasoned with himself. To avoid any more conflict, he reminded himself._

_Thankfully, Alastor noticed the hesitation in Angel's words, voice being only a murmur by the end of his sentence. He'd been very talkative lately, talking about how he misses his mom, and Alastor took it as a chance to speak up about his as well-- the day not clear for either of them, because since then, everything just clicked between the both of them and they started talking more and more._

_As of now, Angel had been exclaiming the crude and disgusting ways his father used to do as a way to cheat every single person he meets, and by the end of his ranting, turned full circle into his mother again._

_"I just... don't see what Ma saw in that guy, ya'know? Like, he ain't shit, that's for sure. But... what made her fucking_ stay _, is what I'm asking. How could a person like Ma love som'body like Pa?" Angel said softly, sighing as he looks as his hands._

_Alastor had reached a hand over on top of Angel's, his smile genuine, "It's because of you and your sister, sha." The endearment slipped off of his lips like the overflowing of water in a container, like something Angel would comment on had this demon before him was the usual Alastor image he had perfectly conjured up with confidence. "She wouldn't have stayed if it meant leaving you two alone. No mother would." He gave a toothy grin, radio accent back in place._

__

_Angel wondered if he would be able to hear that word again-- but this is a different radio demon, after a few gulps of bourbon and a sip of cognac. Angel himself had a few drinks, more than a few, but still sober enough not to say a word. His fingers twitched and itched to flip his hand and hold Alastor's like a lifeline; he desperately needed some form of comfort other than being the recipient, and had this been any other demon, he'd have hugged them to heaven and back._

__

_But this isn't some other demon-- this is Al, the oh-so-powerful Radio Demon-- someone who could snap him in half and patch him up and still keep him conscious to make him feel all the pain. So he resorted to digging his claws into his palms, unable to keep eye contact as his pupils ran across Alastor's face and memorizing every detail of the moment._

__

_"You know there's someone who can help you, don't you Angel?" Al had asked him after a few moments, grin still in place. "There's Charlie, hell, even Vaggie-- you can bond with Niffty over your obsession with those 'paint of oil' of yours," Angel snickered, as Alastor's grin widened._

_"And you can always pour your heart out to dear Husk, Heaven knows how long that man's patience is at drunkards and fools." At this, Angel let out a giggle, tipsy as the alcohol rushes through his veins. "And of course there's me, obviously-- and we're even talking right now! A feat that would be damn near impossible, I could tell you that."_

_Angel laughed. "I'm sure yer puffing out yer chest in those layers of clothing, handsome. To think that porn actor Angel Dust is using his mouth besides sucking some dick and moaning--" He scoffed, then grinned so wide his cheecks hurt. "Valentino would be so mad!"_

_Alastor's face scrunched up. "What a waste; I thought you'd keep the innuendos to a minimum, darlin'." Angel stared. And stared._

_"Could you repeat that please?"_

_A few seconds pass._

_The radio demon smirked, "Oh? At first I thought I misheard you or some'n, but I never thought I'd live to see the day you say 'please', mon ange."_

_Angel had leaned over and pecked him on the cheek, then dashed through the hallways as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did, if the increasing volume of static wasn't obvious enough through the walls of the hotel. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest, his hands scrambling to get his gloves off as he ran._

_Finally taking a second to get the damned gloved off, he rubbed it together and leaped from wall to wall like a spider would on it's web, perfectly hidden webs being his anchor for momentum as he made it to his room in record time. He knows that Alastor was following him, if the shadows moving and twisiting weren't just a fragment of his imagination-- but he still took the time to lock his door and push furnitures to block it._

_He heard the static and the footsteps stop right at his door, and felt the jiggle of the doorknob through his nerves and felt a shudder through his body. The steps faded away along with the static, not sure on which direction, because of the way his chest heave at the effort of trying to keep his mouth shut and tears in his eyes. He doesn't regret a lot of things, both in life and in his un-dead life; but for this time, he did, the fear of their exchange being forgotten to dust because he can't keep his body away from the other. After furiously scrubbing at his mismatched eyes, he let out a throaty laugh and rested his head against the wall, sliding down to sit on his bum. He thought that being less afraid of Alastor himself is a stupid thought in itself, but the idea of Al being distant with him broke his heart than the demon killing him. He feels pathetic. And a huge creep. He let out a bitter laugh, and curled into himself as he wept._

After the _incident_ , they never bothered to talk to one another; well, Angel never bothered, of fear for his undead life flashing before his eyes as he face the wrath of one Radio Demon, but Alastor had reached out to him for a few days before giving up and leaving Angel alone to cope with his own problems, like supporting the hotel as more guests hoping for redemption flooded in.

A week passed by, the hotel with a total of (some not-so) sincere guests hoping for redemption a solid fifty, not including the staff, of course. Charlie had called for a dinner celebration, and it brings us to the current predicament Angel is in:

Having to go through today without exchanging words to a certain red-clad demon.

_Seems easy enough._

Charlie and Vaggie already has a bunch of tables set and arranged in record time, with fancy-looking chairs and cutlery Angel had never seen before in the kitchen laid out perfectly that he concludes is a product of magic. Charlie waved him over and sat him at a table where the other guests are already seated, not too keen on leaving her first hotel guest standing alone.

Well then.

Angel just had to go through with the event, all the while Alastor is drilling holes against the side of his head. He briefly wonders if he could survive without as much as a glance towards Alastor, and concludes that he'll have to gather enough courage to talk sooner or later. Charlie complimented his outfit, and he gave a lazy grin. He's glad that the redemption-schist hadn't bothered his sense of style yet. He had noticed the way Alastor's eyes raked across his figure, red glowing orbs scrutinizing his choice of clothing. And perhaps, _judging him, in general._

This is going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry for any mistakes, this was made at 1am on half a brain and thumbs that worked overtime. Hope you've enjoyed so far! Stay tuned for more~


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